Looking to solve a burning dilemma
Here’s a word problem for you to kick-start your brain this Thursday morning.
Let’s say you have a guy who detests sunlight. Really doesn’t like natural light to the point that he actually painted his childhood room black to prevent the light from reaching his eyes.
A guy who thinks people who are chipper and say, “What a bright sunny day it is” should be summarily placed on a rocket ship and shot into said ball of fire.
Now, let’s say he meets a girl who absolutely worships the sun. Loves it, actually looks forward to spending hours in very little clothing soaking in its rays and works to make her skin as dark as possible.
I think she’s addicted. She needs sunlight like I need cheese – as often as possible.
This is not a good equation.
Why? Because in what little free time we get, she would prefer to be outdoors, bowing before the almighty burning ball, while I would prefer to be inside, bowing before the almighty cooling air conditioner.
So what to do, what to do?
Yeah, I caved.
Now this summer will be defined as the summer of the unfortunately weird sunburn. Every time I venture out into the “natural light,” I forget to put sunscreen on a random part of my body, and it burns, leaving me to look like I have a skin disease or had an accident with a red spray paint can.
First time, the back of my legs got burned. Not the front, which remained the same Casper the Ghost shade of white, but just the backs. Hey, what’s red and white and dumb as a brick?
The idiot who can’t properly apply sunscreen.
To make it worse, after three days of surprising pain every time I bent my knees, the burn became a tan.
My legs looked like they were doing their own version of “Ebony and Ivory.”
After that, I swore never again would I let the sun beat me.
Currently, I have a sunburn that makes me look like I am wearing a red bra. It stretches from one armpit to another armpit under my man boobs.
Apparently, I lathered up with sunscreen and rubbed it on the top of the man cans, which are apparently so large that my hands ski jumped off them and forgot to get the underside.
Awesome. Nothing makes you realize you’re fat like being unable to apply sunscreen to the underside of your man balloons.
Needless to say, I don’t see myself becoming a sun worshipper, which presents a problem because the girlfriend continues to “pray” almost every weekend.
So she gets darker, and I look like one of those bank security dye packs exploded while I was naked.
I can’t – nor do I want to – make her stop, because it’s how she relaxes, and a relaxed significant other is good for Jarid. An unrelaxed significant other is how Lorena Bobbitt happened.
Almost makes you hope there aren’t any cloudy days.
• Dealing with a sun addiction? Tell me about it on the Party of One blog at http://www.nevadaappeal.com/partyofone
• Jarid Shipley is a reporter for the Nevada Appeal. Contact him a firstname.lastname@example.org or 881-1217.